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  2. The Return of the Shrogo ~Znitgit’Shrogo circa 1721 Znitgit woke up on his small dinghy, not knowing where he was, only knowing that when he took the mad caps, Luara had told him to head out to the high seas in search of his homeland in order to bring more disciples to Atlas, to know her and to praise her as more than just the crude idols of the moon that had been erected on their isle of Shroglund. In a frenzy of religious fervor, he chopped down three trees and, using his skills with carpentry he gained from making the Great Shrine of Luara outside of his clan's cave, he built the small dinghy in the shape of a moon. Thereafter, he set off into the seas in the general direction of where he thought they'd come from. Unfortunately for him, a boat in the shape of the moon is not the most agile boat, and he had neither the skill nor the strength to drive the boat forward. Additionally, he'd forgotten food and water, carrying nought but the mushrooms that he stashed in the folds of his robe. Noting his dire circumstance, he resolved to wait until night and to eat the mushrooms in order to commune with Luara. When night came, he consumed the mushroom and suddenly the crescent moon above shined brilliantly, his boat reflecting its light. He looked up, his pupils dilating as he found himself in awe of the brilliant moon above. To him, before the boat appeared a line of silver stars, and a paddle of pure moonlight rose out of the water (in reality it was a convenient piece of driftwood from a nearby boat wreckage), and believing that Luara had aided him, he took the paddle and madly paddled onwards. He paddled for three days and three nights, stopping only once to relieve himself off the side of the boat into an astral chamberpot that presented itself (a bucket from yet another nearby wreckage) before continuing his mad dash. When his boat struck the shores of Shroglund, he found himself amazed when he looked up and the moon appeared as a large thumbs-up, egging Znitgit on towards his people. Thereafter, he stumbled into the nearest cave and fell flat on the sands before them. When he awoke, he was surrounded by his pale-skinned kin. They had recognized that he wore the robes of a Mushob, and talk of a 'prophet' had begun to spread among the locals. "Where’s Nuda?" and "What happened to Shiitake!?" some would say. He first weakly requested food and water, as he had not had either for three days, and when it was brought he drank much of the water and ate much of the food. Thereafter, he took a nap, right there in front of everyone, and when he woke he sprung up and jumped onto the nearest - and tallest - rock. "Bruddaz!" Znitgit shouted "Dea'z an 'ole nuvva continent out dea'! A big wun wif a big moon! It'z 'ome 'ta gitz called 'Urukz' dat run diz great nayzhun called 'Krugmar'. Luara shinez upon id'z peepul, and da Urukz 'ave people who can 'elp uz zpeak to Luara 'erzelf!" he paused for dramatic effect. Some of the Goblins gasped in awe, however a skeptical Mushob asked: "Which part of tha Bad-Moon?” Znitgit, using it as an opportunity to pontificate to the masses about Luara, continued. "Luara; da git dat zhinez' on uz at niyt, dat shelta'z uz frum da zun! Dat led'z uz 'unt an' gatha' at night! Luara'z da git whoze naym we should all rekogniyz an' prayz! Lop Luara!" he shouted, and the goblins reluctantly joined in. "Lop iz a wurd in diz ol' language dat Luara bl- zpeakz, called da 'Old Blah'. Da gitz in Krugmar zpeak da New Blah, wizh - " he lowered the pitch of his voice " - zoundz a bid liyk diz. Dey'z 'av bigga teefz den uz zo dey'z needa blah divvrunt." He raised the pitch of his voice to its normal tune once more. "But I 'ave spoken to Luara! I have spoken to da moon!" the assembled goblins gasped. An old Mushob, native to Shroglund, shouted "So 'ave I! Wif da Shroomz!" Znitgit shook his head. "Wivvout da shroomz! I've bin ON da moon! I've BLAHED wif Luara! Az in, she didunt giv me zum vizhun wif a nu- unclear idea of wot to make 'appen, she told mi!" The old Mushob shouted "Lies!" Znitgit shook his head once more. "Be'old!" Znitgit then brought forth the Shrogo Moon from his pocket, rendered naught but a useless bauble by the Skygods, but it still served as proof of Znitgit's statement. It floated gently above Znitgit's raised hand, its light filling the surrounding cavern. "Diz iz a tiynii moon dat Luara gave to uz! Diz iz da proof of my statement! Diz iz da sign dat we are Luara'z chosen! In Krugmar, we'z got an 'ole cave and an 'ole seat on da Rex'z counzil! We'z importunt enuff to be recognized an' consida'd! We'z a WARGOFF klan! Before I lef' Shiitake'Shrogo wuz Wargoff! We'z got it roight good in Krugmar! Now, Schnub'Nub came 'ea an' we believed in 'im! We truzted 'im! We were rewarded! Now, who'z gunna' follow mi liyk I follow'd Schnub!" The goblins' applause shook the cavern walls, and the news of this prophet of the moon spread all throughout Shroglund, and eventually reached the local Gobbgoth. Infuriated by Znitgit's perceived attempt to take his people away from him, to take them to this far off land that he thought didn't exist, to lead them to wherever this 'prophet' had come back from, he came down from his high, gem-encrusted, gold-laden, silver-lined cave bourne by four strong goblins he'd appointed to have the honour of carrying his gold palanquin around with his iron, silver-inlaid, gold-hafted axe and the breastplate that he'd recently had stretched as he'd grown too fat for his armor. There, he saw the 'prophet' and shouted boisterously "You! 'Mighty Prophet of da Moon', roight? Da skah'r ya doin' wif my skahin' people!" Znitgit began his sermon anew to accommodate for the Gobbgoth, but the Gobbgoth would have none of it. He lifted his axe on high and motioned for his palanquin carriers to lower the palanquin to the ground, and stepped off the gold seat with much effort. His stomach, gelatinous as it was, jiggled around as he lowered himself to the ground. "Get reddi fur a scrap!" Znitgit had brought naught but his ritual dagger and, unlike the Gobbgoth, had no armor to speak of save the thick, heavy robes that hid his form from the sun when he wanted to walk in the day. However, Znitgit had faith in Luara, and, drawing forth one of the mad caps he kept concealed in his robe, he set it alight at a nearby torch and blew it out, then simultaneously smoking and eating the cap of the mushroom. To him, time slowed. His heart raced, on the verge of exploding. Then, he attacked. Those who witnessed him claimed that he glowed with the yellow light of the moon, though it was likely the fire that had started on the mushroom in his mouth. Others would say that he moved as swift as a moonbeam in a crack in the rock, though it was just that he'd moved much faster than the slow, obese Gobbgoth. No matter the account, all stayed the same; Znitgit slew the Gobbgoth that day, and had cut him into ribbons as well as his malleable gold armor, which was no match for Gorkil-forged steel. and the axe barely scraped the Mushob. When it was done. Znitgit collapsed, twitched for a while, then rose up once more and lifted the head and the flabby mass that formed its neck and presented it to the gathered goblins. "By right uv da' Skrap, I'm da new Gobbgoth! Now, get 'ya robez, go outzide n' build da biggezt ship lat gitz'v evva zeen!" The goblins would begin to file out of the caves with newfound determination, but would soon be stopped by the sounds of a staff hitting the floor, rhythmically and methodically. “Ah… Hrm.” A shadowed figure stood in the doorway, a long, creeping shadow coming off of the light from outside. The group, stopped in their tracks, observed it. Some yelped, some ran, and some cowered. “I thinks I understand.” It waved a staff in the air, knocking back a few goblins, and pointed a long, spindly finger towards Znitgit. “I can tell you’ve done Schnub things, yes-yes.” It spoke, coughing and sputtering, lowering its hands and leaning on its staff. Soon it would be clear to the goblins that this was Mygenaba, one of the oldest Mushobs, let alone beings, on their island. “Hnnghh!” The old goblin convulsed, and with a shaky hand, pulled a Mad Cap from a belt that hung lazily around his waist. Consuming it, he would immediately scream. “Yes! Yes! The Bad-Moon!” He shouted with newfound energy, lumbering over to Znitgit. “It all aligns! The stars line with the moon! You have seen Schnub himself!” He waved his staff in the air once more to the amazed Znitgit, and this time while dancing. “Be bless-blessed! Gyaaah!” He smacked Znitgit on the head with his staff, before nearly collapsing. Noticing that Znitgit was about to speak, Mygenaba quickly interjected. “Speak none! Go! You carry the Bad-Moon on your shoulders!” With that, he stumbled to the side of the cave wall and laid there, pointing to the entrance of the Shrogo caves. It was a gruelling trip. Due to pure dumb luck, they had run off course and were headed towards Arcas rather than the cold, frigid wasteland that Atlas had become. However, that also meant that their general direction was off. They had planned for a weeklong journey and packed for two weeks, but the end of the 2nd week came and went and there was still no sign of land. Goblins began to perish or jump overboard from desperation or from bad trips, claiming the Moon told them to do it. Other goblins, not used to even the slightest amount of light, died from incurable skin conditions. While the Shrogo fleet began with 27 ships, their numbers dwindled until they could man only one. 26 ships with Bad Moon banners were left to float adrift on the seas beyond Arcas, all laden with the corpses of Shrogo goblins not strong enough to make the trip. Znitgit had needed to Skrap a considerable amount of times, but no one could best him once he'd entered his frenzy. However, even Znitgit was wondering whether he was in the right, doubting his holy mission. On the night of the 7th month - they'd been subsisting on the flesh of the deceased, those who hadn't died of illness - he prayed to the Moon. A mist had set in that day, and all on the boat were clueless of their heading, only hoping for land. To Znitgit's shock. he opened his eyes and saw the moon, a crescent above him, and the mist before him cleared. Before him, he saw the shores of Arcas, and knew he had reached the right land. At the top of his lungs, he shouted "LAND! LUARA GAYV UZ LAND! LOP LUARA!" and the motley crew of goblins remaining burst into cheers. The Shrogos were once again coming to the shores. OOC: Hi! I’m bringing back the Shrogo clan, but if you want to play one of these surviving members from the original isle, post a little RP blurb about the trip and your character as well as the following. I’ll send you a link to join the discord and communicate RP Name: MC Username: Discord Username: Need a skin: (Y/N)
  3. SERVITE DOMINO V: Serve the Lord with fear, and rejoice onto him with trembling. R: Embrace discipline, lest at any time the Lord be angry, and you perish from the just way. V: When his wrath shall be kindled in a short time, blessed are they that trust in him. Kyrie Eleison. Kyrie Eleison. Kyrie Eleison. ‘Sedes Sapientiae’ (Seat of Wisdom) Saint Catherine was known for her studious nature, honestly and diligently pursuing truth, both natural and supernatural, historical and of her own times. She never forgot the wise maxim ‘The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom’ ,for she did not vainly pursue knowledge to impress friends nor to please her family. She was a true Seat of Wisdom, and in hard times was a steady rock of truth, and a witness of justice, for all to see. Her knowledge did not make her more pretentious, but more humble, the mark of true wisdom, as she walked with all peoples and classes to dispense wisdom in the right way. Today, we ask her to be that rock in our own lives, and to secure for us that humility. She did not wear the gaudy and over-rich garments of royalty, but the common dress of a humble servant. We ask her to dress us in that glorious garment of God, and to know true wisdom. O, Holy Catherine. Secure for us a deeper wisdom and understanding of God. Help us to be diligent in our tasks, and to receive joy with humility and joy all hardships, as thou didst. Miserere nobis, Domine! Miserere nobis! Sancta Ecaterina, Sedes Sapientiae, ora pro nobis! ‘Consolatrix Afflictorum’ (Comforter of the Afflicted) As she grew into adulthood, Saint Catherine, although of the highest birth, was always there for the poor and afflicted of the city. Sparing nothing for herself, she was in the constant practise of giving alms, demanding nothing yet giving everything. The virtue of Charity animated her, and took her in unexpected directions, as she allowed the spirit of Charity to guide her life and actions. Today, we ask her not only to show the same pity to us here on earth as she showed the people of Felsen, but to animate us to good deeds. O, Holy Catherine. Pray for us, that God may animate us with the same lovely spirit that did give thee the most loving kindness. Pray for our priests, particularly the Holy Pontiff, Daniel the Sixth, and allow that same spirit to possess them entirely. Miserere nobis, Domine! Miserere nobis! Sancta Ecaterina, Consolatrix Afflictorum, ora pro nobis! ‘Refugium Peccatorum’ (Refuge of Sinners) ‘...My faith demands action, not seclusion. My faith demands a fiery heart that beckons us to serve the good people of the world.’ So wrote Prioress Mother Yuliya of Haense, of the Order of the Blessed Catherine. Whilst not the words of Saint Catherine herself, they might well sum up her attitude, since her mission was not to retreat from the world, nor to beckon others to do so, but to save sinners within it. In this way, she truly deserves the title, ‘Refuge of Sinners’, for to them she was a holy example, and a plea to confess, repent and seek forgiveness. We, who are sinners, must ask her to obtain from God forgiveness for our sins. O, Holy Catherine. As thou wast the Refuge of Sinners on earth, saving men of all kinds from themselves, hear our pleas to obtain from God that same forgiveness. Be our advocate in Heaven, and help us to resolve never to sin again. Miserere nobis, Domine! Miserere nobis! Sancta Ecaterina, Refugium Peccatorum, ora pro nobis! ‘Femina Purissima’ (Woman most Pure) At the age of 13, St. Catherine took an Oath of Purity that she upheld to the day she died, thirty-seven years later. She never once lied, inspiring others by her pure and honest example to do the same. Indeed, it is a certified miracle that her body remained entirely uncorrupted years after her death, and even upon her fiftieth year retained the appearance of youth. It must be that virtue, then, that God wished to show in her, as an example to all men and women of goodwill. Today, we ask Catherine to pray for us, that we may achieve the same purity, and especially for all the thieves and criminals, fornicators and evil-doers, that they may repent and find truth. O, Holy Catherine. As thou didst swear never to lie, so too do we. Help us to uphold our purity, and especially help those who are suffering from a lack of it. Pray to God, that they may be turned to that same untarnished integrity that thou didst embody. Miserere nobis, Domine! Miserere nobis! Sancta Ecaterina, Femina Purissima, ora pro nobis! ‘Domina Pacis’ (Lady of Peace) Humility, Wisdom, Kindness, Purity and Charity. All of these virtues might be summarised with one word: Holiness. As her Saintly holiness inspires us to emulate these marvelous virtues, she is also the ideal Saint to pray for Peace, for her legacy of non-violence and lowliness, if surely they ruled the world, would grant Peace both between the nations, and in our own souls. For, as Holy Mother Church has been wise enough to make her Patron of Integrity, we must also look to her as Patron of Peace. O, Holy Catherine. Grant peace to our souls and to our nation. May our rulers be governed by Holiness, and may all the mournful dead of war be carried into Heaven by thy prayers and advocacy. Miserere nobis, Domine! Miserere nobis! Sancta Ecaterina, Femina Purissima, ora pro nobis! Kyrie Eleison, Kyrie Eleison. Kyrie Eleison. ECCE QUAM BONUM: V: Behold how good and pleasant it is for brethren to dwell in unity. R: Like the precious ointment on the head, that ran upon the beard, the beard of Exalted Horen, which ran down to the skirt of his garment: V: As the dew of Aegis, which descendeth upon the greatest mount. R: For there the Lord hath commanded blessing, and life for evermore.
  4. Gundrjav Bozneks hand pressed his inked thumb underneath Vludosvlah signature.
  5. today’s the day the lore games start or the day flam resigns

  6. Today
  7. Freja

    JPMomo

    User was successfully implemented!I am a bot. Please contact a staff member if you need assistance.
  8. rwko

    JPMomo

    Changed Status to Accepted
  9. rwko

    JPMomo

    Thanks for hanging on, and welcome to LoTC! Upon being accepted, your account will be automatically whitelisted and you should be able to log in right away. If you require any assistance, PM me over the forums, on Discord (reko#7767) or catch me in-game under the username rwk0. Consider joining the New Player Discord to connect with the community, and remember to look over the New Player Guide. Happy roleplaying!
  10. "Did they say 1,000 or 1? I can't tell if that's a dot or...?" Says Cat The Bounty Hunter
  11. Freja

    vrxska

    User was successfully implemented!I am a bot. Please contact a staff member if you need assistance.
  12. Tigergiri

    vrxska

    Changed Status to Accepted
  13. Tigergiri

    vrxska

    ✧・゚: *✧・゚:*  Yay! You did it!  *:・゚✧*:・゚✧ On behalf of the server and Community Team members, I’d like to welcome you to LOTC! As soon as this is posted, you should be whitelisted onto the server. Contact me or make an /creq if there are any issues with whitelisting or similar. Feel free to browse the Wiki, and you can also join our New Player Discord, which is a beautiful place where you can ask questions to our various staff teams, meet other server players, and learn about new roleplay opportunities for all character races! The new player discord is a great help in getting you situated into our server. I hope you enjoy your time on the server, and if you ever have any questions or need help, please feel free to contact me here on the forums, through my discord (Tigergiri#0744), or by /msg Wholesomerp in-game. Upon your arrival to Arcas, the monks from Cloud Temple will be there to guide you towards your desired destiny. Happy Roleplaying!
  14. The Journey of Shakul’Gorkil It had been ages since he'd last seen another of his kin. Was he the only one left in this frozen wasteland? Furs adorned his body, layer upon layer of mammoth, rabbit, deer, and any other kind of fur he could get his hands on covering his body. He'd lost track of how many Vaeyl he had slain outside of his once sandy, hot, arid, cave, only that he'd suffered since the memo of his nation's departure had not reached his cave, the messenger likely silenced by the continual ringing of the hammerstroke on his latest masterwork. A year before and 3 following the evacuation of Atlas, Shakul'Gorkil laboured tirelessly at the Forge of Azog on reforging the Black Hammer of Gorkil, the hammer he'd wielded since he was a kub on the sands of Vailor when he was known by a different name. He'd just mounted the boar-faced head onto the haft when the snows began to set in, when he'd noticed that the goi his people once called home was abandoned. He'd already taken to hunting various beasts in the desert, but he'd noticed a rather dramatic change; The coyotes and dire wolves had fled the deserts, the nullers remained beneath the sands, never to rise and torment him again, the desert tortoises and wild jabbernaks had disappeared, and the vultures no longer circled overhead. In their place, great hairy northern creatures - grizzlies, mammoths, elk, moose - had begun to appear, beasts he was familiar with from his ranging in the mountains of the unfinished San'Gorka. Anticipating the later colds, his stockpile of furs and hides began long before the snows began to rise above the low rock walls that surrounded his cave, long before the entrance was regularly blocked by a cascade of snows that required ample heat to remove. In these times, Shakul'Gorkil was grateful for the magmatic flow he'd tapped into in order to fuel the forge, grateful that he could take shelter in his cave and cook his latest kill over the scalding heat of the forge. For years, Shakul existed in this barren wasteland, drinking from buckets of melted snow and eating haunches of thawed bear meat. It was some time before he encountered the Vaeyl, a threat that he'd heard of only in the whispers on the wind before the snows began to set in. Often, he'd find himself ambushed by the armour-clad men, and often he'd find himself hauling fresh metal - and often, fresh meat - to the forge. He was beyond certain that he would die in this frozen wasteland, cold and alone, and began to make peace with Krug, with Kor, with the ancestors and immortals that he held dear to him. It was with this desire to make peace with his spirits that he ventured to the Elemental Plane and spoke with Quxlaz, the fire spirit that he'd made a pact with when the rivers flowed and the plains flowered, when he'd made the promise to bring to the world the greatest fire the Mortal Plane had seen, to spread Quxlaz' influence to every hearth in the halls of Krugmar. "You lied. You resign yourself to remain here, in this frozen wasteland and eke out the rest of your days merely living?" the fiery creature's voice shouted in the Old Blah "And for what? Why do you live? What is your purpose? You are a frail, old thing, and you have decieved me." Shakul'Gorkil hung his head in shame, the stinging accusations of the spirit stinging his pride and scalding his resolve. "Mi did nub lie. Mi'z intenzhuns wur-" "Your intentions are not your actions." Quxlaz recognized his words had made their mark. "Now, will you go meekly into Stargush'Stroh, or will you make good on your promise?" Shakul's pride took ahold of him, and when he departed the trance induced by the cactus green he'd smoked, he took naught but the furs on his back, his tool belt, his warhammer, some meat and a torch and left. The trek north was brutal. He was constantly assailed by wild animals, the Vaeyl, and the various other creatures that had come to inhabit Atlas after the cold set in. His body had began to freeze, the snows lashed at his face, and the winds bit into his skin like a hungry pack of wolves, ravenously pursuing their elusive pray, snipping at the parts that dared stray too close. The warmth that the torch provided was minimal, and rather quickly the flames went out, rendering the torch naught but a piece of charred driftwood. Sleep began to seeem like a good option, and the promise that Shakul might wake up to find this entire endeavour was naught but a green-induced dream was beginning to appeal to him. Several outcroppings in the snow-laden rock seemed appealing, but the biting words of Quxlaz nagged at the back of his mind and drove him onwards, a fiery lash driving him forward against his will. He had not slept in days, he had resorted to drinking the blood of his kills in order to stave off dehydration, and he had naught but a general notion of where he was going when he decided to set off north. He passed the ice-encased cities of the past - Haense, Marna, the Cloud Temple, Dunshire - on his trek north, all of which posed as comely distractions to the beleaguered warrior. Were he not an uruk of tougher stuff, were he not a former Rex, were he not a war hero and a survivor, he would've already been dead, and while his metal leg dragged in the snow, the wolves warily watched his every step, and the icy northern crows cackled from frozen boughs above, he continued on in spite of them, driven by his pride, his resolve, and his basic sense of survival. It was pure dumb luck when he happened upon the passageway north, the frozen statues of Atlas' fallen implying their valiant struggle against the Vaeyl on their northern retreat, armors and weapons of all races sticking out of the thick layer of ice that encased their former owners, forgotten by the children of Arcas. It was through this gate that the weary, frostbitten Shakul wandered through, not peering back to view the hellscape that became of the land he was once a leader of. Luck caused him to choose the correct passageways north, and luck caused him to amble past the Vaeyl patrols that monitored the region south of Arcas. Luck and resolve in equal measure brought him, gasping and limping, to the borders of Arcas. He was too distraught to realize that his left hand was dangerously frostbitten and in need of amputation, that two of his toes were on the verge of snapping off, and that all that saved his face from devastation was the thick beard that had set in after years of isolationism. Not realizing the threat had passed, Shakul continued his trek until he reached the Cloud Temple of Arcas and, at its border, he collapsed onto the ground. Cloud Temple monks rushed to his aid and, with their medical expertise, three of his toes, a significant portion of his left arm, and one of his fingers on his right hand were amputated. Shakul was in a catatonic state for months, tended daily by monks and watched over by their monastic order, before, eventually, Shakul woke. The fire in his heart was rekindled, and it was time to release it in the name of Quxlaz.
  15. Tigergiri

    vrxska

    Changed Status to Under Review
  16. Salneedsfriends

    vrxska

    Ever since Sylvin was younger, shes always wanted to be an archer. Her father,was an archer himself, as well was he apart of the military for the Haelun’or military. (guards? I’m not sure, forgive me for that- still trying to learn more about the lore and terms they use. ^^) And she had always looked up to him, He was her inspiration. Unfortunately, he fought in the Coalition War, resulting in his death. Sylvin, being very close to her father, considering her mother had died while giving birth, was devastated, but it drove her to continue practicing her archery, she wants to make her dad proud. As time went on, she found sutica, and she setteled there, for now. Her goal, as of now, is to build relationships, build upon her skill in archery, and to learn more about the world around her. side note; im not the best at retaining information ive read, and my send of time is awful, so i some parts seem to be too spaced out, like the Coaltition War, and the current time period, i can change it. : >
  17. U N I O N T H U L È E N E S U M M A R Y Thule San Entrave: 2 Civilian Infrastructure [20k Credits] Liberté Au-delà: 2 Basic Industry [17k Credits] Research: T1 Civilian Infrastructure [8R, 25/25] Warp Drives [2R] Shipyard: 1 Exploration Vessel [1M] Actions: Sending Corvette and Frigate to Primitive World in Northern Sector Abducting Populations of Small, Isolated Villages from each Empire / Kingdom / Few Largest Tribes Sedated and Transported to Thule San Entrave Captives Held in Simplistic (Bronze-Age-esque) Holding Cells Attempting to Decipher Language of Captives Xenolinguists’ clothes and tech restricted to Bronze-Age level when interacting with Primitives to prevent complete culture shock Genetic and Physiological Research of an Isolated Portion of Captives [3k Credits for Facilities and Research Necessary] Sending Exploration Vessel East to Sector North-East of Capital Searching for Resources, Habitable Worlds, and Alien Life [Blue Outline Arrow is Expl. Vessel, Red is Mil. Fleet] R E S O U R C E S 40.5k [-40k Credits] 9 Labour 16 [-1] Materials 11 Supplies 10 Research 17 Troops Thulean Union Statistics
  18. You’re breathtaking 

    1. Salty
    2. Deer__

      Deer__

      You’re all breathtaking!

  19. Players/Group Requesting: Irrnoir, 4+ What kind of Event are you looking for?: A hunt for a boar, bunnies anything really. Approximately, what time/date you want the Event to take place?: 8pm Gmt June 23rd Organizer's Discord: You may contact either myself Tigergiri#0744 or Peachlova#6617 ❤️
  20. Andrik would spit out his as he sat within the halls of the Prikaz “I’M MARRYING WHO WITH THE WHAT NOW!?”
  21. [!] A letter hangs on the walls of several cities, Haelun’or, Sutica, Llyria, Adria, Curon, Haense, Fenn and Vira’ker. The letter states the following: “Dear Citizen, You have been invited to come to the wedding of Thalia Beigwyn and High Prince Xavis Ashwood! Come down to the Vira’ker on Sun’s Smile of 1721! Please note that those who cause problems will be removed. Yours Truly High Prince Xavis “Igne” Ashwood Thalia Beigwyn” [OOC] This takes place on Sunday the 23rd at 3PM EST, be there of be circular because we are squares. Also, sorry for the lack of picture, I’m bad at finding ones that fit.
  22. THE CHANCELLOR’S REPORT Issued and Confirmed by the Lord Regent Lerald Vyronov 2nd of Snow’s Maiden, 1721 Va Birodeo Herzenav ag Edlervik, It is with great sadness that I have taken on the responsibilities of the late Lord Regent, Prince Georg Alimar, who has fallen alongside his brother Prince Godfric Alimar as another example of the meaningless bloodshed of this war. They will be remembered for their great service to the realm. I will continue the work on what was previously decreed by the late Lord Regent, including the temporary suspension of the Royal Levy Ban of 1709 and the Infrastructure Bill that recently passed the Royal Duma. I wish to assure the great denizens of our realm that His Majesty’s Royal Government will continue the preperations for defensens with the help of our respected noble houses. In these turbulent times it is of the utmost importance to strenghten the bonds between our loyal vassals and the royal family. Therefore I am announcing two royal betrothals. The first between His Majesty, King Andrik III and Her Ladyship, Katharina Erika Vyronov. The second between His Grace, Duke Viktor Ruthern and Her Highness, Princess Mariya Oliviya Barbanov. They shall marry once they come of age. Furthermore I will be looking to find qualified candidates for the office of Palatine Aspirant and the office of Lord Speaker. Untill the appointment of a new Lord Speaker I shall temporarily lead the Royal Duma myself. May GOD bless His Majesty and the Kingdom of Hanseti-Ruska. IV JOVEO MAAN, His Lordship, Lerald Vyronov, Lord Regent of the Kingdom of Hanseti-Ruska, Lord Palatine of the Realm, Count of Graiswald, Baron of Rytsburg, and Protector of the Highlanders 
  23. T H E M O R N I N G K I N G D O M S U M M A R Y [Last Turn] Yonghai: 3 Manufactories [22.5k Gold] Luoyang: 2 Manufactories [15k Gold] New Outpost [5k Gold] [This Turn] New Town Liangjing: 4 Manufactories [30k Gold] 1 Temple [10k Gold] 2 Units T3 Zhizhou Gou [13k Gold] New Outpost [5k Gold] Morning Kingdom Statistics
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